


could be a page for us

by nascence (noktah)



Category: Produce 101 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sort Of, it's set from concept eval until pre-finale!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 10:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noktah/pseuds/nascence
Summary: Once he glimpsed at their song’s stage set—the song title written in the poorly chosen font, numerous clownfish balloons you could find at festivals for kids, the overall ocean theme when the lyrics screamed metaphors of space outside earth—Suhwan’s gut twisted.Ah, Suhwan thought.I’m already halfway home, aren’t I?





	could be a page for us

**Author's Note:**

> uh, the last time i published something, it was almost two years ago, so yeah. this was a miracle. i'm sorry if this seems rough. this is also unbeta'd so please do tell if i make some mistakes!
> 
> the title is taken from day6's time of our life.

Once he glimpsed at their song’s stage set—the song title written in the poorly chosen font, numerous clownfish balloons you could find at festivals for kids, the overall ocean theme when the lyrics screamed metaphors of space outside earth—Suhwan’s gut twisted.

_Ah_, Suhwan thought. _I’m already halfway home, aren’t I?_

Nine votes.

Well, that certainly sealed the thoughts.

Names after names were revealed on cue with Dongwook’s words, and all he could think then was his suitcase would not be heavy with clothes and sheet masks anymore. For the elimination round, he would only pull a suitcase filled with one set of training suit—the royal pink A, to be returned—one set of pajamas, and the empty space of his heartache.

He absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his shirt repeatedly, trying to find the perfect motion to keep dangerous voices undertow before another set of fingers, much bigger than his, slipped through. He jolted out of surprise and stared at their joint hands.

“What are you doing?’ Suhwan whispered to the owner of the hand standing behind him. He could already feel the quick gazes coming from other trainees, fleetingly wondering what was going on between them. As if Suhwan was not embarrassed enough by the amount of his votes.

“Nothing,” Yuvin leaned closer to his ear, sheepishly scratching his neck. “Just want you to know you did good, but I don’t wanna be loud.”

“Please, you’ve already said that like hours ago.’’

Yuvin huffed. “And I want to do it again.”

“Why?”

“Do I have to make a reason?”

Suhwan pondered. “No. I guess not.”

“Then don’t ask.”

Suhwan did not let go. He kept holding onto Yuvin’s comforting grip until he had to clap for Yohan out of courtesy. The number was much lesser than Jinhyuk’s weeks ago, but it was still intimidating nonetheless, especially because this was his last chance to prove he could reach the top of the pyramid without getting attached to a company’s name. He could do being labeled as the next Jaehwan or someone else as long as he could sit on the sofa at the finale. But he was far too short, far less pretty, far too nameless to make it on his own. 

He sought out Yuvin’s hand again and let go of his hope.

Suhwan’s smile was blue.

He was eliminated. Didn’t even have his name featured in the big screens.

He had expected it, but it felt like the sea personally came to pull him under into its bottomless abyss and left him choked and drowned by memories of his failed attempts. In his head, Dongwook’s voice, announcing those who were unfortunately given small chance to sit in the last chair, maliciously turned into voices of people that half-heartedly said they were sorry for rejecting him and wished him good luck on his endeavors. He did not even remember if those who sit beside him were already gone or stuck in their seats. He just blanked out until he heard Kookheon and Sejin’s names called out.

They went to their podiums and appealed themselves. Sejin survived. Kookheon did not.

Suhwan immediately looked at Yuvin. In this distance, the man who usually towered over him looked so small. He tried to wiped off his tears on his sleeves, but the tears would not stop flowing and he gave up. He glanced at those who still stayed at the bottom, at their wet cheeks and their shaking shoulders.

Suhwan, too, finally cried along. 

Suhwan initially wanted to talk to Yuvin, but Yuvin quickly ran down the stairs to meet Kookheon who were trying to stop his tears from flowing. They were teammates first and foremost, but one of them would go back to their dorm and another would challenge the finale. Suhwan could not interrupt that—the tender moment between members he had been longing for when he auditioned in front of the casting teams, again and again.

While Kookheon and Yuvin were busy exchanging heartfelt hugs and words, Suhwan reached to embrace his former teammates. _Let’s meet again_, they said. _Good luck, _Suhwan prayed to those who were eliminated and those who did not. _Good luck to me_ _too_, he added for only his to hear. His tears lingered on their lapels, indicating how little he is compared to other competitors, literally and figuratively. Suhwan tried not to overthink it so much.

Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. Suhwan turned and there it is: the crooked smile he was so fond of, but never admitted it. He didn’t even remember since when the fondness had begun—he guessed it was during the time Yuvin brought him sports drink during their two AM practice as a gift for teaching him the details of _X1MA choreo, leaving Suhwan stunned under the bright lights; it was a such stupid, mundane reason.

“Sorry,” Yuvin started and Suhwan was already so tired of this—of him hunching his back.

“What for?” Suhwan asked. 

“Uh... Everything?”

“You idiot.” Suhwan tipped on his toes to cup Yuvin’s face and bring him down so he could face him eye-to-eye. They were red; the leftovers of his sadness leaving Kookheon to sit in the pyramid. Yuvin must had seen his eyes were red too, the regrets of not being able to sit in the pyramid. Suhwan mustered a small smile. Regrets, yes. But that did not mean there were not happy moments too. Many of them caused by the presence he held in his hands then. “Hear me out, okay? I was sad. I _am _sad. But why do you have to feel sorry for me? You are not the reason why I failed.”

“I mean. If only I didn’t steal your position—“

“Don’t invalidate our team’s thoughts. They picked you because they knew you were the best option.”

“But—“

Yuvin tried to speak again but Suhwan shushed him. “Mr. Yuvin, you are the best rival I could’ve ever hoped for.”

“Huh?”

Yuvin looked so surprised that Suhwan couldn't help but giggle helplessly. It was honestly weird to see the staff tried to pit him against Yuvin so much. He knew, in their eyes, his given screentime was only to be Yuvin’s shadow. It stressed him out a lot and made him feel doubt of his own talent. Even so, he was thankful to meet him like this. He finally met a person he wanted to win against so, so bad and that fact kept him tethering towards his dream to perform on stage, reaching out to take the spotlight with his own hands.

“Thank you for willing to be my friend. To be my rival.” Suhwan patted Yuvin’s cheek—one, two, three times. “Do your best, okay? I’ll vote for you.”

A few days later, when he took a break from his dance practice in a rented studio, Yuvin texted him. _You know I’m not gonna believe you’ll be voting for me unless you send me some screenshots_, it said. Suhwan cheekily replied, _lol do I need to watermark it as well? _Yuvin immediately typed out _well duh _and sent a cute sticker of a mascot crossing his arms.

His phone vibrated with more messages from Yuvin but he ignored it as he watermarked his screenshots. When he went to open his chat to upload his voting proof, there laid pictures sent by Yuvin: screenshots of him voting for Suhwan in the past, complete with watermarks and doodles of smiley faces. He also sent this: _do your best too so we can stand on the same stage. _

Suhwan stared at Yuvin’s message for a long time. It was a silent promise hidden between such simple, cliché words. It made him giddy with anticipation, nonetheless. He thought of all the steps he had learned, all the lyrics he had remembered, all the friends he had made, all the love he had received. He typed back. _Don’t worry_. _It may take a long time, but I’m getting there._

In front of a mirror, facing his own reflection, Suhwan danced.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this!


End file.
